


First Night

by Prince_Hamlet



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Non-Graphic Violence, Telepathy, martian tomb times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 07:10:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16383650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prince_Hamlet/pseuds/Prince_Hamlet
Summary: The first night in the tomb was quiet.





	First Night

The first night in the Martian tomb was quiet. 

As soon as they’d arrived, Miasma’s assistants led them to what appeared to be a burial chamber, complete with an imposing sarcophagus across from the door. The room was dimly lit by a construction lamp which cast strange, harsh shadows. Nureyev surveyed the room and sat primly against one of the walls, legs crossed and eyes closed. Juno paced around the room, examining every corner for cracks in the walls or any useful item left behind in the shadows. He knew it was futile before he started but his other choice was just sitting and waiting for whatever happened next. 

Peter cracked an eye open after several minutes of listening to Juno’s ceaseless searching.

“Juno, why don’t you sit down? You should take this opportunity to rest after the day we’ve had.” Juno continued, undeterred. Nureyev sighed. “Juno—” 

“I don’t get how you’re so goddamn calm,” Juno interrupted, picking up the work light to search behind the coffin. “We both just almost ended up dead in the desert and now we’re sharing a tomb with some long-dead alien hot-shot.” He kicked the coffin, dislodging some crumbling chunks of Martian sandstone.

“But we aren’t dead.” Nureyev pointed out. “And we are together.” Juno leveled a glare at him that he hoped was threatening enough to bury the topic. Nureyev shrugged and leaned his head back against the wall. Juno went back to searching in silence. The tomb so far proved to be solidly built, even where a modern door had been inserted into the entrance and where the sandstone had crumbled away. 

“Thank you, Juno, for saving my life,” said Nureyev quietly. Juno looked up from where he was attempting to see if the coffin could be moved and saw those bright eyes watching him. No fox’s smile, no dramatic, flirtatious, or charming overtones. Just a small voice, that belonged to a real man. Genuine. Sometimes it’s hard to spot a fake before you’ve seen the real deal. But after that, you can never stop knowing the difference. 

Juno looked away. Eyes that bright made his headache worse.

“Don’t mention it,” he said gruffly.

“Really, I—”

“I said don’t.” 

Juno gave up on trying to move the coffin and started attempting to break off shards of stone that were strong and sharp enough to use like a knife. The silence didn’t stretch quite as long as intended.

“It was a very clever bluff,” Nureyev started, scraping dirt from under his fingernails and watching Juno out the corner of his eyes. “I’m not sure how you knew it would work, but even I almost believed you. But you wouldn’t truly pull a gun on yourself just for my sake, would you?” 

Nureyev did a very excellent job of both not looking at him and watching his every move.

“Juno?” Another large chunk of rock crumbled in Juno’s hands as he tried to chip of pieces to make a sharp edge. Nureyev gave up the pretense of cleaning his nails.

“Tell me you wouldn’t.” 

Juno was saved from lying by an attendant entering, tossing in two bedrolls, two nutrition bars, and one water bottle, and leaving. Juno put the work light back where it had been and picked up one of the bars. He planted himself against one of the walls next to the door so he wouldn’t have to be face to face with Nureyev and looked over the carvings on the wall with false interest. Nureyev stood, picked up the other bar and the bottle, and sat closer to Juno.

“We have to share,” Nureyev pointed out in answer to Juno’s raised eyebrow. “Better to sit closer.”

Not a great excuse but Juno didn’t argue and they both pretended the water bottle was the reason he scooted a little closer. They ate in silence. Now that Nureyev was occupied both with eating and studying the wall across from him, Juno watched his face. He wasn’t too badly banged up from the earlier fight, and the harsh light only highlighted his sharp jawline and high cheekbones. Nureyev caught him looking and smiled. Unprompted, images of himself flashed in his mind: getting his arm broken by Cecil’s spiked fist, looking triumphant and radiant in the Dahlia Rose suit with blood streaming out of his nose, whipped by sand in the desert with his own gun to his head and nearly half his face covered in blood. With these, a thought, not his own, came into his head. _I’ll have to do whatever it takes to protect him._ The whole sequence made his head pound and sent a shooting pain through his temples. He screwed his eyes shut.

“Juno? Are you alright?” And the day must’ve been catching up because it all sounded so distant. 

Somewhere, he’s aware that he dropped the second half of his nutrition bar to grab his head. Somewhere, he heard fabric rustling, ripping. Then, very close and very solid, a set of slender fingers pulled his right hand away and pressed a damp cloth to his cheek. He opened his eyes to Nureyev, only inches away and looking at him, brows furrowed, concern written all over his face. Juno jerked away from the touch and nearly slammed his head on the wall. He scrambled up and put some distance between them.

“Warn a lady,” he said, indignantly.

“I did. You weren’t responding.” That concerned look almost looked like fear in the oddly angled light.

“Oh.” Juno glanced around to see the bedrolls had been set up, side by side in the middle of the room. Nureyev’s blazer was on the ground and the lining was torn. It had only felt like a few seconds, but he must have been unresponsive for several minutes. Nureyev stood and stepped toward him but caught himself a few feet away and held out the damp piece of lining in his hand.

“You should get some rest, detective. I assume we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.” 

Juno took the cloth and wiped at his face. It came away completely red. Nureyev stripped down to his boxers and undershirt out of eyesight and got into his own bedroll. Juno took off his duster and got in his.

“Goodnight, Juno.”

“Goodnight, Nureyev.”

There was no way to turn off the light, and it was harsh enough that neither of them slept very much at all. But they didn’t talk.

The first night was quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> tbh u can read this as a prequel to my other fic steady but rly that's just because these are both scenes not shown in canon.  
> My tumblr is prince-hamlet  
> hit that mf comment button if i made u sad


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